Evil Dead: The Series 15: "Killing Me..."
by OmarSnake
Summary: Ash meets a woman with a hairy problem....


"Evil Dead: The Series" Episode 15  
  
"Killing Me (Not So) Softly"  
  
By: OmarSnake  
  
TEASER  
  
FADE IN  
  
on the busy holiday throngs swarming through the aisles of S-Mart.  
  
Ashley J. Williams peers cautiously out the window of one of the two swinging doors that lead back to the stockroom. Teddy Rammer peers out the other window.  
  
"You want to handle this one?" Ash asks nervously.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Teddy replies, indignant. "It's your turn, Mr. Zombie- Killer."  
  
"Please, I'll wash your car..."  
  
"With that metal hand? You'd probably scratch the paint."  
  
"For the love of God, Teddy! Don't make me---"  
  
"Your turn, pal. Deal with it."  
  
Teddy hands him a large cardboard box. Ash gulps and steps through the swinging door. He glances around, trying to seem inconspicuous as he moves briskly through the linens department. A few customers seem to eye him suspiciously, and Ash catches their gazes, his eyes widening with fear, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He makes his way past the pet supplies and lets out a sigh of relief, the end of his mission in sight.  
  
Then, he hears a voice over the store loudspeakers.... Teddy's voice.  
  
"Attention S-Mart customers... the new shipment of Beanbaggie Babies is now arriving in the toy department."  
  
Ash starts to turn, to run back to the stockroom, but it is too late. A mob has surrounded him.  
  
"Um... limit one to a cust---" Ash starts meekly. Then, the carnage begins.  
  
It is as if he were a cow dropped into the middle of a lake of particularly ravished pirannhas. The crowd descends on him, knocking him to the ground as they tear open the cardboard box and grab at little stuffed doggies, kitties, giraffes, wombats, and ferrets.  
  
One woman yells triumphantly, "I GOT A SAMMY THE SLOTH!!"  
  
"Gimme that, bitch!" another woman yells, tackling her. The mob moves to surround the ensuing fight, rooting for one side or the other, all the while hoping to get a chance to grab the rare toy for themselves.  
  
Ash remains where he fell, on the edge of the pet department leading into the toy department. He takes a few breaths to make sure no ribs are broken, and starts to get up.  
  
A hand comes down to offer him assistance, and he takes it.  
  
"Thanks, but if you're looking for more of those Beanbaggie Babies I'm afraid---"  
  
His voice trails off as his gaze falls on the woman who helped him up.  
  
She is beautiful in an unassuming sort of way, a dignified woman with red shoulder-length hair, shimmering brown eyes, and full, luscious lips. She smiles. "I'm not after any toys," she says.  
  
"Oh, thank God," Ash replies. "Well, what CAN I help you find?"  
  
She fingers his nametag. "Ashley J. Williams, Assistant Manager. You're the one I've been looking for."  
  
"Me?" Ash asks, suddenly flustered. "Wh--what for?"  
  
"I need to hire you to kill a werewolf," the redhead says evenly.  
  
"Look, lady, I'm not some slayer-for-hire..." Ash starts.  
  
"I have fifty thousand dollars."  
  
"But I could become one," Ash finishes, his eyes widening.  
  
FADE OUT. OPENING CREDITS ROLL.  
  
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ACT ONE  
  
TITLE CARD: "Killing Me (Not So) Softly"  
  
SPECIAL GUEST STAR: Gillian Anderson as Beatrice  
  
FADE IN  
  
Ash paces in his living room.  
  
"This doesn't make sense. I'm not a paid killer."  
  
He glances over at his TV set, complete with a coat hanger being used as a makeshift antenna.  
  
"It's not like..." he starts, slowly, under his breath.  
  
His eyes fall next on the giant wire spool being used for a coffee table in the center of the living room.  
  
"... I really NEED..."  
  
His eyes fall on the ragged, plaid-patterned couch, a spring sticking out of it defiantly.  
  
"... the money...." He concludes.  
  
He lets out a long sigh, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and looks at it. It reads 'Beatrice, 784-1160'.  
  
"Well, she's asking me to kill a werewolf," he says, stroking his chin. "Which means it's a monster. And I have been known to fight monsters from time to time."  
  
He lets out another sigh. "But for all I know, it's some poor sap who can't control what they do."  
  
He starts to pocket the phone number again.  
  
"But on the other hand, maybe they WANT to die, to put 'em out of their misery," he mutters. "Like Michael Landon, or Lon Chaney, or that Dr. Pepper guy... Or maybe he's evil, like every other friggin' monster I keep bumping into." He pauses, looking down at the telephone. "Dammit."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Another apartment.  
  
This one is not as grungy as Ash's place, but it's not much better either. Exhibit A: the faded gold couch against one wall. Exhibit B: a black velvet painting of Marilyn Monroe, hanging on the wall behind said couch. Exhibit C: A ratty silver aluminum Christmas tree in one corner, with blinking multicolored lights. Exhibit D: the used car salesman sitting on the couch, beer in one hand as the other grips a remote control.  
  
The man is Scotty Jarvis, and he is good-looking in a seedy way, with feathered blond hair that fairly screams '1980s fashion victim'. His plaid jacket is draped rather unceremoniously over a chair that does not match the couch in any way, shape or form, and he wears a white short-sleeve shirt with a gaudy necktie that he has loosened a good four inches but, for some reason, not taken off.  
  
Across from him is a TV set propped on top of a now-defunct stereo system. On top of the TV is a VCR, and on top of the VCR, the plastic sleeve of a rental tape titled "Legal n' Tender".  
  
On the TV, a pleasantly startled pizza delivery boy is being greeted by three busty coeds.  
  
The phone rings.  
  
Scotty looks over at it balefully, as if wishing it to stop.  
  
"Ah, I'll let the machine pick it up," he says to himself, settling deeper into the couch.  
  
The phone rings three more times. Meanwhile, on the TV, the delivery boy finds his shirt being torn off.  
  
The answering machine clicks on. "Ho, Ho, Ho!!" Scotty's voice cries out. "You've reached the North Pole! If you've been naughty, please leave your phone number after the tone. Ho, Ho, Ho!!!"  
  
There is a loud clunky beep, followed by Ash's voice: "Scotty, you piece of monkey shit, pick up the phone before I come over there and shove it up your---"  
  
Scotty reaches out and snaps up the phone, not taking his eyes off the TV screen, where a blonde coed is making unusual use of marinara dipping sauce. "Hey, for all you know, I coulda had company..."  
  
"Stop with the funny talk, punk," Ash says. "Got to talk to you."  
  
"About what?" Scotty asks. "I'm watching a movie, and I don't want to lose track of the plot."  
  
"I know what kind of movies you watch," Ash says. "They cum, that's the plot. Now listen, I've got a problem here."  
  
Scotty sits up on the couch. "You sound frazzled, dude. Xmas at the store more of a pain than usual?"  
  
"This is something else," Ash says.  
  
Scotty arches an eyebrow. "Involving Jesinia? You finally asked her out for real?"  
  
"If I did, you think I'd come to you for advice?"  
  
"Why not? Didn't I help you get that Barbie chick in college?"  
  
"As I recall, you introduced us at that party and then tried to steal her away when you realized she was getting drunk," Ash says wryly.  
  
Scotty shrugs. "So if it's not for my fabulous wealth of carnal knowledge, what kind of problem do you have that I can help with?"  
  
Ash takes a deep breath. "I need some advice on what to do about a job opportunity."  
  
"A promotion?" Scotty asks. "Cool, take it!"  
  
"No, that's not it," Ash says. "It's... sort of a side job, and it pays a hell of a lot."  
  
"Define 'a lot'," Scotty says.  
  
"Tens of thousands," Ash replies.  
  
Scotty's jaw drops. He sits there silently for a long moment, the only noise in his apartment coming from moans of ecstasy on the TV screen.  
  
"Is this something with drugs?" Scotty asks. "They want you to smuggle dope inside that metal arm of yours?"  
  
"Nope," Ash replies.  
  
"You're gonna be a gigolo for a society matron?" Scotty asks. "We talkin' Sophia Loren or are we talkin' Mrs. Drysdale?"  
  
"Not that either," Ash replies.  
  
"Well, what then?" Scotty asks. "You're supposed to kill a guy?"  
  
There is silence on the other end of the phone.  
  
"Ash, that was a joke," Scotty says. "Tell me that's not what it is. I know you're strapped for cash, but--"  
  
"Have you ever known me to kill anybody?" Ash asks.  
  
"You came close that time you caught me in Marianne's closet back in sophomore year," Scotty says.  
  
"I would never kill a fellow human," Ash says. "You don't quite qualify."  
  
"Well, it's not drugs, it's not pimping yourself and it's not murder for hire," Scotty says. "You haven't been cast in a porn movie have you? Because that's been a lifelong dream of mine, and I'd be glad to take your place. Hell, I'd even let you keep the paycheck---"  
  
Ash lets out a groan. "Look, this was a mistake," he says. "Coming to you for moral guidance is like askin' Sylvester to babysit Speedy Gonzales..."  
  
"Well, if you're not going to explain it to me, I can't exactly help ya, pal," Scotty replies.  
  
"Let's put it this way, I'm being asked to do something I'm kinda queasy about and I'm being offered a ton of money to do it," Ash says. "What would you do?"  
  
Scotty considers this. "You're 'kinda queasy', huh? Is this something you can find out more details on?"  
  
"I guess so," Ash says. "I could ask the lady to explain it further..."  
  
"A lady?" Scotty asks, perking up.  
  
"Yep," Ash says.  
  
"Hold on, did some broad notice what a handsome, strappin' guy you are and offer you money to knock her up?" Scotty asks. "Because I saw this movie about that a few weeks ago, I think it was called 'The Egg and Us'..."  
  
"Bye, Scotty," Ash says, hanging up.  
  
Scotty stares at the phone for a long moment as he hears the dial tone, then shrugs and hangs up.  
  
and dialing the telephone.  
  
He shrugs and hangs up, then looks at the TV screen. "Hey, where'd the Chinese girl come from?" he asks, hitting the rewind button.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
A diner, where Ash sits in a corner bench, strumming the fingers on his metal hand on the top of the table.  
  
The waitress, a gum-popping bleached blonde wearing a pink dress, sashays by and fills his coffee cup, then winks and heads past. Ash mutters a thanks and takes a long sip of coffee.  
  
He hears the bell at the front door ring and looks up eagerly. It is the redhead, clad in a stylish grey ladies' business suit. She takes a quick glance around the room and then heads straight for Ash, sliding into the seat across from him. "Sorry I was running late," she says.  
  
"Not a problem," Ash replies. "Gave me a chance to catch up on my caffeine intake."  
  
The waitress drifts by, a mild scowl on her face at the sight of the pretty young woman sitting across from the man she had been winking at.  
  
"What'll ya have?" the waitress asks.  
  
"Coffee, sugar no cream, hash browns, scrambled eggs, two orders of bacon," the redhead replies.  
  
After the waitress walks off, Ash looks over at the redhead. "So, all I know about you is the name Beatrice and a cell phone number," he says.  
  
"That's all you need to know at the moment, isn't it?" she asks.  
  
"Well, if I were to take on this case, I'd need to know I could be paid." Ash replies. "It's easy to just SAY you'll pay someone fifty grand to whack a werewolf, but---"  
  
The woman reaches into her jacket pocket and drops a moneyclip filled with hundreds on the table between them.  
  
Ash quickly covers it with his hand as the waitress delivers Beatrice's coffee, then departs again.  
  
Ash looks under his hand at the money clip. "Holy shit," he says.  
  
"That's only two thousand right there," Beatrice says. "But that should be enough to at least convince you to keep listening."  
  
"I'd also have to know more about this werewolf," Ash replies.  
  
"I can give you all the information you need," Beatrice says. "Background history, biographical info, photos, anything."  
  
"Wow, you must really want this puppy killed," Ash says.  
  
"That's an understatement," the woman says.  
  
"Okay, you got a deal," Ash says. "So, where do I look to find this monster?"  
  
"You wait til tomorrow night, for the next full moon," the woman replies. "The werewolf is me."  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT TWO  
  
FADE IN  
  
Ash sits back, startled.  
  
"You?"  
  
"Me," Beatrice replies evenly.  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because I'm a werewolf," Beatrice says. "Because I want to be freed from this curse, and you're one of the few people in the world with the chops to do it."  
  
She goes silent for a moment as the waitress brings her plate.  
  
"If you don't mind, I'm awfully hungry," Beatrice says, digging in to her plate.  
  
"No problem," Ash says, watching as the woman redefines ravenous in her eating habits.  
  
Ash takes a gulp of his coffee. "Now, when you say you're a werewolf---"  
  
"It's an old family curse," Beatrice says, finishing off her bacon. "That stuff about lycanthropy being transmitted by a bite is Hollywood baloney."  
  
"Have you looked for a cure?" Ash asks.  
  
"Oh, only for the last 20 years or so," Beatrice replies. "Ever since I was 8, I've been poring through textbooks and mythology collections. But there's nothing that can help me."  
  
"How about being locked in a dark place away from the moonlight?" Ash asks.  
  
"More Hollywood bull," Beatrice replies. "The transformation takes place during a full moon, but I don't have to be hit by the moonlight for it to happen. That's also why I'll be in lupine form for the entire duration of the full moon, not just at night."  
  
"Look, miss, I'm not going to kill you," Ash says.  
  
"Not even if I'm a menace to innocent people?" Beatrice asks pleadingly. "Not even if it puts an end to this family curse at long last?"  
  
Ash furrows his brow, not sure what to say.  
  
"You won't need a silver weapon either," Beatrice replies. "More Hollywood. It just takes a lot of stamina to fight a werewolf, and your average street corner assassin-for-hire would be so much Purina Wolf Chow."  
  
"I know some people who might be able to find something you didn't," Ash says. "A kooky old occultist and his daughter..."  
  
"And what about people I might kill while waiting for them to do their research?" Beatrice asks. "I can't bring myself to commit suicide... there's some sort of self-preservation instinct the wolf side of my psyche has..."  
  
"But that's not preventing you from coming to me?"  
  
"It's a very primal force, so I don't think it understands a situation this complex," Beatrice says. "If I were to put my neck in a noose, that it could figure out."  
  
"How'd you find out about me?" Ash asks.  
  
"There's quite a bit of information about you online," Beatrice replies. "Some people who are keeping track of all your antics. One guy's even writing short stories about you."  
  
Ash grimaces at the thought of this.  
  
"There's someone named Aurelien in New Orleans who specializes in hunting werewolves, but I can't wait as long as it would take to track him or her down," Beatrice explains. "Besides, it sounds like you're plenty tough enough."  
  
She reaches out and feels Ash's arm, and the muscles beneath his shirt sleeve.  
  
"Please, help me," Beatrice asks.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The next day, in the cluttered confines of a library.  
  
An elderly black man in a tweed suit (special cameo by Morgan Freeman) flips through antiquated books as he crooks his neck to one side to hold a portable phone in place.  
  
"You'll need to be a bit more specific, Mr. Williams," the man --- Eldridge Stone by name, paranormal investigator by profession --- says.  
  
"Well, she said I don't need silver to harm her," Ash says. "And she changes in the light of the full moon."  
  
"Have you seen her transformation? And if so, is it lupine, muzzled humanoid, feral human-beast---"  
  
"She changes tonight, Doc," Ash replies. "I haven't seen it yet, and I doubt she's looked in a mirror herself."  
  
Eldridge flips through a tome. "In myth, werewolves and silver were rarely mentioned together," he explains. "More often, the way to defeat them was fire, or a blessed artifact, or more often simply a good thrashing. During the Middle Ages, suspected werewolves were often flayed alive, to see if they had fur hidden underneath their skin."  
  
"Charming," Ash replies.  
  
"Did she give you any details that might narrow down what kind of lycanthrope we're looking for?" Eldridge asks. "The human beast is one of mankind's oldest legends, and most likely there are dozens of varieties of 'werewolves' ... not to mention were-leopards, foxes, bears, jaguars, etcetera... to choose from. I know of at least five prominent 'breeds' of what we would commonly refer to as a werewolf, though I've only ever seen two types myself."  
  
"I didn't ask for her pedigree," Ash says. "But it's a family curse, that's got to narrow it down, right?"  
  
Eldridge scoffs. "As far back as recorded history, there have been cases of lycanthropy involving family curses," he says. "In fact, the name of the condition came from King Lycaon of Arcadia, who was cursed after feeding the god Zeus the flesh of a child.... in some stories, Zeus's offspring by Lycaon's daughter and in other stories, simply an unfortunate youngster. Lycaon became a wolf, and subsequent generations suffered the same fate."  
  
"Could she be from that family?"  
  
"Doubtful," Eldridge replies. "According to a history Nils Haerngrin wrote in the 1850s, the descendants of Lycaon died out around the 8th century A.D. Do you know what ancestry this woman has?"  
  
"She didn't even give me her last name," Ash replies. "She's a redhead, so maybe she's part-Irish."  
  
Eldridge Stone contemplates this. "Let me check Montague Sommers' history of werewolves, and see if he has anything specific to Ireland..."  
  
He reaches for another leather-bound tome and begins flipping yellowed pages. "Hmmm, no, let's try 'Wolves and Werewolves' by John Pollard," he says to himself, picking another book from the shelf.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
the back storeroom of S-Mart, where Ash paces back and forth as he listens on a portable phone.  
  
Teddy pokes his head through the swinging doors and scowls. "Your lunch break's over, Williams," he snaps.  
  
"Ah, get bent," Ash replies, turning his attention back to the phone.  
  
"How long is this gonna take, Doc?" Ash asks impatiently.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
"Not long, not long," Eldridge says absently, his thoughts focused on the pages. "Ah, here we are, chapter 11: Wolf Packs in Ireland." He mutters to himself as he skims the pages. "Nothing useful there, though it seems that as late as the 1690s Ireland was so overrun with lupines that it was known as 'Wolf-Land'..."  
  
"Wolves, or werewolves?" Ash asks.  
  
"Wolves," Eldridge replies.  
  
"That doesn't help us here," Ash says.  
  
"No, but it IS interesting," Eldridge points out, then snatches another book from the shelves. "Perhaps we're going at this from the wrong angle. I've got quite a few books about lifting curses... not werewolf-specific, but perhaps I can find some overall remedy..."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Ash continues to pace. "You really think that'll work, or are you grasping at straws?"  
  
"Anything is possible, Mr. Williams," Eldridge replies. "I've got one book that can cure practically any gypsy curse, in case that's where it came from..."  
  
Teddy strides angrily across the stockroom floor. "I mean it, man, quit hiding in the back here! The store is swarming with holiday locusts!" He tries to grab at the phone.  
  
Ash flicks up a hand to deflect Teddy... his mechanical hand, to be specific. Iron fist meets glass jaw, and the end result is Teddy sprawled backwards, knocking over some cardboard boxes.  
  
Ash looks down at him and shrugs. "Doc, I gotta get back to work, can you call me if you find anything?"  
  
"Certainly," Eldridge replies. "But please, do be prepared. Contrary to most movies I've seen, a real life werewolf is not one for stalking prey, they simply leap out and attack full-force. They fear nothing, since there's nothing above them on the food chain."  
  
"I'll carry some weapons, but I hope not to need 'em," Ash says. "We're going to an isolated area in the forest this evening. Maybe if I can chain her up, and watch over her til the full moon passes, we'll have more time for you to find a cure."  
  
"You're proposing to stay somewhere out in the woods for a day or two with a wolf-woman chained to a tree?" Eldridge asks. "Are you sure that she even IS a werewolf?"  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"There are dark forces at work against you, Mr. Williams," Eldridge explains as he leans against a shelf. "And I mean beyond the obvious force at work from the Deadites that you've thwarted over the years. What if she is in cahoots with one of your enemies, and is merely there to lure you out into the woods?"  
  
"Believe me, Doc, a beautiful woman like her wouldn't have to lie about being a werewolf to lure me into the woods," Ash replies. "You're just bein' paranoid, anyhow."  
  
"Or she might simply be a suicidal young woman who has lied to get you to kill her," Eldridge suggests.  
  
"She'd know I won't do it til she turns furry, if even then," Ash says.  
  
"Or a longtime admirer trying to coax you into a moonlit rendezvous," Eldridge adds.  
  
"Boy, I wish," Ash says. "Believe me, Doc, this woman seems sincere. And I'm going to help her, whatever it takes."  
  
"Watch your back, Mr. Williams," Eldridge replies.  
  
"Hey, I'm just trying to help out a damsel in distress," Ash replies, hanging up the phone. He strokes his chin, thinking to himself. "But I gotta say, it sure seemed easier in the fairy tales, where the beauty and the beast were in different bodies."  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT THREE  
  
FADE IN  
  
Wednesday, early evening.  
  
As Ash Williams' electric blue 1992 Saturn drives down the highway leading out of Detroit. Snow and ice from a day earlier still linger on the edges of the road, but the sky is now clear.  
  
Ash sits in the driver's seat, tapping the fingers of his mechanical hand on the side of the steering wheel in rhythm with Dean Martin's rendition of "Baby It's Cold Outside" on the radio. He seems intent on pretending nothing special is happening.  
  
Beatrice sits beside him, gazing at the traffic.  
  
"And baby, it IS cold outside," an annoyingly perky male radio DJ announces. "27 degrees, expected low tonight of 22. If you're gonna catch the full moon tonight, be sure to bundle up!"  
  
"And you WILL want to see this moon," a second DJ, this one female and just as annoying, says. "The moon is full, and at its closest approach to the Earth, coinciding with winter solstice. End result, the brightest full moon since 1866!"  
  
"And I wasn't here to see that one, Suzy," the male DJ chimes in. "But I bet it was a doozy! Awoooo!"  
  
Beatrice sneers and reaches out to change the station, ending up on some Mozart.  
  
"Hope you don't mind," Beatrice says.  
  
"Nah, they get on my nerves too," Ash replies. "I just wanted to hear the weather forecast. Bright and clear. Does the fact that the full moon is visible make you more powerful as a werewolf, or does that matter?"  
  
"Even behind clouds, it causes the transformation," Beatrice explains. "It's not like I've tested my limits -- consciously, at least -- but I don't think I'm stronger just because the moonlight is actually hitting me at a given moment."  
  
"How about this 'closest full moon' stuff?" Ash asks. "Will that change anything?"  
  
"You heard the lady, it's been 133 years since the last time this happened," Beatrice replies. "So I have no earthly idea."  
  
Ash nods.  
  
"Did you want to count the money?" Beatrice asks, pointing a thumb over her shoulder to a briefcase in the back seat.  
  
"Nah, I trust you," Ash replies.  
  
Beatrice looks out the window at the sky. "It'll be dark in an hour," she says. "If we got stuck in a traffic jam, it would be bad. Very bad. I'd hate to be here in the middle of a crowd of people when I changed."  
  
"That's why I skipped work early, so we could get out of the city limits before traffic gets too bad," Ash replies. "Don't worry."  
  
"You seem awfully relaxed," Beatrice says, her eyes narrowing. "You're not planning to go through with it, are you?"  
  
"Don't know what you mean," Ash says.  
  
"Oh, yes, you do," Beatrice replies, eyes flaring. "What are you planning to do, tie me up in a cave or something til the full moon ends?"  
  
Ash bites his lip. "Chain you to a tree, actually."  
  
Beatrice frowns. "Don't try to rewrite our arrangement."  
  
"I never promised to kill you," Ash replies. "Just help you."  
  
"I told you, nothing can help," Beatrice replies angrily.  
  
"Let me do this," Ash says. "I've got to try... for my own piece of mind. If I can buy us another month of time, this crazy old professor I know might be able to find a cure."  
  
"What if I overpower you and kill you?" Beatrice asks.  
  
"Lady, I've beaten things that would make Dracula wet his coffin," Ash replies. "If I can't stop you, and my life's in danger.... I guess I'd have to snuff you then."  
  
"Promise?" Beatrice asks.  
  
Ash arches an eyebrow. "You know, the professor suggested you might be a suicidal type trying to trick me, when you're not actually a werewolf at all."  
  
"You've talked about this with him already?" Beatrice asks, surprised. "Believe me, I wish I could live a peaceful, happy life. Find a nice man, settle down, raise kids..."  
  
"Well, obviously if it's a family curse, other people in the family have at least tried to settle down," Ash says. "Maybe they locked themselves in the basement once a month?"  
  
"My father vanished in the woods every time the change came," Beatrice replies. "I guess he didn't want to be near us, and risk hurting or killing one of us."  
  
"How'd he die?" Ash asks.  
  
"Auto accident," Beatrice says with a sad smile. "My mother died in the same wreck."  
  
Ash is silent for a long moment.  
  
"That's when the curse passed on to me," Beatrice says. "The first time I transformed, I was eight years old."  
  
"And if you had a kid, then the curse would pass to them when you died?" Ash asks.  
  
Beatrice nods. "But I wouldn't let that happen."  
  
"So you've never thought of having kids?"  
  
"I got pregnant once, in college," Beatrice replies somberly. "I had an abortion. I couldn't cause anyone else to bear this burden."  
  
Ash looks over at her, not sure what to say.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
A wooded area, at the end of a long dirt road.  
  
Ash's car comes over the ridge, pulling to a stop. He gets out, as does Beatrice.  
  
"I'd guess we've got fifteen minutes til dusk," Beatrice says. "That's when the change takes place."  
  
Ash opens the trunk, taking out a length of heavy-duty chain, a padlock, and a duffel sack.  
  
"What kind of weapons did you bring?" Beatrice asks. "I've read about your chainsaw..."  
  
"It's in the trunk, along with a shotgun, a silver dagger, a wooden stake, a spritzer bottle full of holy water, a tire iron---"  
  
"You always travel this well-prepared?" Beatrice asks.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"So what's in the sack?"  
  
"Sandwiches, chips, canned beans, drinks... I figure I'll have to stay out here at least two days."  
  
Beatrice arches an eyebrow. "But if you stay here the whole time, you'll miss work."  
  
Ash scoffs. "Somehow, I think I'll survive the disappointment," he says. "S- Mart at X-Mas is not a fun place to work. Not that it's all that much fun any other time."  
  
Beatrice looks around their surroundings. "That oak tree looks pretty sturdy," she says. "If you really want to chain me up---" She pauses, and chuckles to herself. "Sounds kinky, doesn't it?"  
  
"It does at that," Ash says. "But that's not how I meant it. Fooling around with a humanoid wolf is hardly my idea of fun."  
  
"Well, maybe after the full moon's over," Beatrice mutters to herself as she walks around the oak tree she has selected. "How do you want me?" She leans back against the tree, stretching her arms back across the trunk.  
  
Ash nods and starts to tie the chain around her, wrapping it around the tree twice and padlocking it firmly. "How's that? Too tight?"  
  
She struggles against the chains. "No, feels about right," she says. "Assuming my chest cage doesn't expand much when I transform."  
  
"Must be strange not knowing what you even look like in wolf-form," Ash says.  
  
"If I survive, you can tell me later," Beatrice replies. "And, I don't know what it is, but you've almost got me convinced we can do this."  
  
"Of course we can," Ash says with mock indignance.  
  
He pulls a lawn chair out from the trunk, along with a portable radio, then sits down ten feet away from the beautiful young woman he has chained to the tree.  
  
"You know, this seems kinda odd," Ash says with a wry smile.  
  
Beatrice looks up at the near-dusk sky. "You're not like I expected, Ash," she says softly.  
  
Ash looks over at her. "How's that?"  
  
"Well, you know, big time monster fighter, known for wielding a chainsaw in one hand --- er, arm --- and a shotgun in the other. You're... forgive me for wording it this way, but you're a gentler soul than I thought."  
  
Ash chuckles. "Yeah, I'm a sap, if that's what you mean," he says. "I went out to the cabin where I first met the deadites with my girl Linda, for a romantic weekend... I was planning to ask her to move in with me there, but then the woods came alive and all hell broke loose."  
  
"How sad," Beatrice replies.  
  
"And then... well, it's a long story, but I got in more trouble because of a girl named Sheila who I couldn't bring myself to disappoint."  
  
"Are you involved with anyone special now?" Beatrice asks.  
  
Ash shakes his head no. "There's a girl in my apartment building who I'm friends with, but she's too young for a grizzled old brute like me," he says. "And I've flirted with the professor's daughter, but she's too high- class a chick to settle for me."  
  
Beatrice smiles to herself. "I'll bet either of them would be glad to be more intimately involved with you," she says. Then, a pause. "I know I would," she says softly.  
  
Ash raises his eyebrows, surprised by her candor. "Ah, you're just deluded because I'm acting all heroic at the moment," he says. "Once you got to know the real me, you'd change your tune."  
  
"I doubt that," Beatrice says. "Tell me, Ash, why do you still work at S- Mart?"  
  
"A guy's gotta work," Ash says with a shrug.  
  
"That job's beneath you, and you know it," Beatrice replies. "You could do great things... in fact, you've already done great things, keeping the forces of evil in check."  
  
"Fighting evil doesn't pay the rent," Ash says.  
  
"With the money I'm giving you, you can take some time off, find a better job," Beatrice says.  
  
"Hey, if I don't kill you I don't get the money, so I'm hoping I don't get it."  
  
"You can take it either way," Beatrice says. "For helping me. And so I can help you, in a way."  
  
Ash considers this. "But you'll probably need it..."  
  
"My family was independently wealthy," Beatrice says. "I'm rich. You keep that money, whatever happens. Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
Beatrice arcs her head back, looking at the sky. "I'll bet that full moon is going to be beautiful tonight," she says. "In the past twenty years I've never seen one, except in photos."  
  
Ash looks up at the dusk sky. "Never been much for astronomy," he says. "Flunked it in college, in fact... spent too much time out in the back of the exploratory with this chick named Barbie, not enough lookin' through the telescope."  
  
"You went to college?" Beatrice asks.  
  
"Two years," Ash says. "Engineering program. My stepfather never forgave me for dropping out."  
  
"You could go back," Beatrice says. "With the money."  
  
Ash shrugs. "I'm not a college degree kinda guy."  
  
"You could be," Beatrice says. "At least think about it."  
  
Ash nods. "Hey, it's your bread, you can tell me how to spend it," he says.  
  
"And while you're at it, you might want to get a better prosthetic arm," she says. "That metal armor hand look is soooo five years ago."  
  
Ash laughs, and Beatrice does as well.  
  
A silence falls over them as dusk continues to descend on the woods.  
  
"I'm scared," Beatrice says.  
  
"No need to be," Ash says. "It's all gonna work out."  
  
"I'm scared it won't," Beatrice replies. "All this talk about what you can do with your future reminds me of what I could do, if only I could get freed of this curse. And I'm scared of what will happen if I can't."  
  
"In other words, you don't want to die," Ash says.  
  
"No," Beatrice replies. "I don't. I want to live, and get cured, and get to know you better." Her gaze meets his.  
  
Ash scratches the back of his head. "Well, uh, thanks," he says.  
  
"But if you have to kill me, don't hesitate," Beatrice says forcefully. "Don't let me kill you and escape into the night."  
  
"Nobody's killing me, you have my word on it," Ash says, thumping his chest.  
  
Beatrice twitches. "It's happening," she groans.  
  
Ash stands from his chair, clenching his metal fist, bracing himself.  
  
As night falls over them, Beatrice continues to flinch and strain against the chains.  
  
After a few more minutes, as the bright light of the full moon shines through the woods, Beatrice begins to snarl and growl.  
  
She flings herself impotently against the chains, as if trying to break free. But there is, so far, no physical change.  
  
Ash paces nervously, watching her.  
  
"Kill me!" she snarls. "I'm a werewolf!!!!"  
  
Ash stops in his tracks.  
  
"Kill me!" she cries. "Kill me!!!"  
  
"You haven't changed," Ash says gently.  
  
Beatrice snarls and snaps.  
  
"Honest, you haven't," Ash says, stepping closer. "Not one extra hair."  
  
She lets out a long, low growl.  
  
Ash shakes his head, thinking to himself. "You want proof?" he asks, striding to his car. He reaches in, and pulls the rear view mirror off the front windshield with his metal hand. He walks back to her and holds up the mirror so she can see her own reflection, and see that she is unchanged.  
  
Beatrice screams. "Oh, God, I'm a hideous monster!" she cries. "Kill me!!! Now!!!"  
  
Ash looks at the mirror curiously.  
  
"Don't you see the fangs?" she gasps. "Don't you see the hair, all over my face?" She lets out a long, but decidedly human, howl.  
  
"Well, THIS is a contingency I hadn't planned for," Ash says to himself.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
A few minutes later, Ash sits in the open door of his car, cell phone in hand.  
  
"Sounds like a case of medical lycanthropy to me," Eldridge Stone's voice says over the phone.  
  
"No, Doc, she hasn't changed a bit," Ash says. "She just thinks she has."  
  
"That's what I mean, Mr. Williams," Eldridge replies. "In medical terminology, lycanthropy is a schizophrenic delusion that one has turned into a wolf."  
  
"But she doesn't really change, "Ash says, looking over at Beatrice, who continues to struggle against the chains.  
  
"Mystic lycanthropy would be the term for an actual transformation," Eldridge explains. "This girl needs counselling, not silver bullets."  
  
"Poor kid," Ash says. "What should I do?"  
  
"Wait out the night, to make sure there is no true transformation," Eldridge says. "Then when she finally passes out from exhaustion, get her to a hospital. They have facilities there that deal with this kind of thing on a regular basis."  
  
Ash nods. "Understood."  
  
"If she's as far gone as you indicate, they'll most likely put her in a mental institution, possibly for several years at the least" Eldridge says. "Most likely, there's some childhood trauma at the heart of this."  
  
"Like the shock of losing her parents in a car wreck when she was little?" Ash suggests.  
  
"Exactly," Eldridge replies. "She might have started by acting out as a cry for attention, and then gotten progressively worse, until she actually believed she became a wolf when the moon was full. Do we know any more details about this woman, such as her name? I can do some investigation to see if she's ever been in therapy..."  
  
"Just the first name," Ash says. "She doesn't have any ID in her belongings, I checked already. She says she's rich, but all I've seen in proof is the fifty grand she gave me."  
  
"That money might be needed for her treatment," Eldridge says.  
  
"Yeah, I already figured that," Ash replies. "Ah, well, easy come, easy go."  
  
"It's a sad situation," Eldridge says somberly. "And one that brings to mind the questions of the beast that lurks in all of us, beneath the surface, ready to--"  
  
"Yadda yadda yadda," Ash interrupts. "Enough psychobabble, Doc. I'll call ya if anything changes."  
  
He hangs up the cell phone and gets out of the car, pulling on a heavy coat and walking back to Beatrice.  
  
Her hair is matted with sweat, her eyes wild and frenzied. She snarls.  
  
Ash reaches out with his metal hand and gently brushes the hair from her eyes. Beatrice replies by trying to bite him, chomping down on metal rather than flesh.  
  
"We'll get you taken care of," Ash says. "I promised to help ya, and that's what I'm gonna do."  
  
Beatrice stares at him, primal hatred burning in her eyes.  
  
"It sounded for awhile there like you might be falling for me," Ash says. "Figures you'd turn out to be crazy."  
  
He sits back in his lawn chair. "In the morning, I'll get you somewhere safe and comfortable," he says. He reaches out and turns on the radio. The song 'Bad Moon Rising' blares out.  
  
Beatrice howls and snaps, with no sign of intelligent thought. In her mind, if not her body, she is purely and simply a beast.  
  
Ash lets out a long, weary sigh. "I gotta tell ya, it's easier when I just have to fight a monster and be done with it," he says, leaning his head back to look at the full moon.  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
End Credits Roll. 


End file.
